Remarkable
by KLCJadee
Summary: What if during L.D.S.K. Reid had taken to heart all of the things that Hotch had said about him? Spoilers for L.D.S.K. 01x06. Not slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Remarkable  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>L.D.S.K. 01x06  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mild coarse language, slight OOCness and minor suicidal thoughts.  
><strong>Words Count: <strong>1,944  
><strong>Summary: <strong>What if during L.D.S.K. Reid had taken to heart all of the things that Hotch had said about him?

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><p><em><strong>Shakespeare wrote, "Nothing is so common as the wish to be remarkable."<strong>_

"_They knew he was in here and they knew he was armed and dangerous and they knew he was going to fight to the last round. And they sent me in here with an unarmed kid who can't shoot his way out of a wet paper bag!"_

The subway stopped and he got off the train, walking up the stairs with people elbowing past him roughly. The words swirled around his head as he made the short walk to the F.B.I.'s building, quickly getting screened at security before making his way to the elevator.

"_Ya know why they took away boy genius' gun? He failed his qualifications."_

The elevator pinged as he arrived at this floor, briskly walking through the bullpen to the break room to grab some coffee. The words that Agent Hotchner had viciously spoken during their last case kept repeating themselves in his head and he poured more sugar then coffee into his mug.

"_Twice a year I gotta listen to him whine about requalifying, so I tutor him." _

Reid sat down at his desk opposite from Elle's as he started on the stack of files that he _swears_ Morgan and Greenaway add to from their own piles.

"_And he fails again."_

Spencer pushed his light brown locks roughly away from his face as he tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him, the cruel words resurfacing again and again. Elle and Morgan glanced at the twenty-four year old as he made a frustrated sound.

"_Put them next to the barricade; that way when they blast their way in here both of our problems are solved."_

Tears came to his eyes as he thought about all of the horrible things that had been said about him. He knew that Hotch was just trying to empathize with the unsub and hadn't meant it, but Spencer also knew that everything he said was true. Reid had failed his qualifications—as he usually did—, Hotch had tutored him as always and Reid knew that he complained about it every time that the qualifications came up.

"_I figure the chances of my getting out of here alive are pretty slim."_

"_So?"_

"_I wanna kick the snot out of this kid."_

Is that really what Hotch wanted to do? Was his dying wish to beat him? To kick him so hard that he would be feeling the pain for moths after? Reid shook his head at the thought. _Of course not! Why would that be my boss's last wish?_

As much as Reid tried to convince himself that Hotchner was just trying to get the two of them and the hostages out of there alive, his mind kept telling him that Hotch hated him and that the team felt the same. They all wanted him dead and they all wanted the chance to beat him, just like the bullies in high school.

"_He's made my life miserable for three lousy years."_

Reid had been on the BAU team since he was twenty-one, had he been making people's lives miserable since he could legally drink? Or had he been doing that since he was little? _Probably. I mean my Dad left me, didn't he?_ Spencer harshly wiped the tears off of his face. He needed to stop thinking about that! Of course he hadn't been making other people's lives miserable! Hotch was just trying to save his, mine and many other people's lives! _But is that what he really thought of me?_

When the Dowd had told Hotch to 'knock yourself out', Hotch hadn't hesitated to throw Reid to the ground. He hadn't flinched as he kicked Reid continually in the stomach and groin. He'd been ruthless and relentless in his attacks. He hadn't just been acting; he was truly trying to hurt Spencer. _It was like he wanted me to feel the pain. It's probably what three years of pent up rage feels like._

"_How smart are you now, smart guy?"_

Elle and Morgan shared a look from across the walkway of their desks as they heard Reid sniffle and then cough. They watched as his hands roughly raked through his brown hair and shove it behind his ear. His hands shook as they picked up his coffee, spilling a little bit on the edge of a piece of paper. The young genius swore under his breath and the two older agents shared another look; Spencer never swore!

"_It's front sight, trigger press, follow through!"_

Reid didn't think he'd ever forget how to properly shoot a gun again. The words danced through his head every time he saw a firearm, involuntarily flinching as he thought about the brutal kicks that had been aimed straight at his stomach punctuating every step.

"_It's not that hard! A Dalmatian could do it!" _

Usually Spencer would have sprouted off some random fact about how it was impossible for a canine to even hold a gun, let alone press the trigger for lack of opposable thumbs but even after the incident; he couldn't bring himself to think of the speech he would have likely given under different circumstances. Maybe that was why nobody liked him? He always went off on prolonged oratories on topics that nobody cared about and was often told to shut up or hurry up and get to the point. Maybe he should just stop talking? Stop sprouting off facts that he found interesting; obviously nobody shared his sentiment and wished that he would shut up.

"_I think he got the message."_

_Sure did, boss. _Were the words that crossed Reid's mind every time that particular line surfaced in his memory. Morgan and Elle were soon joined by JJ with their concerned glances as the blonde joined the others in the bullpen, her arms file free. They watched in alarm as their co-worker and friend clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"_You all right?"_

"_Yeah." _Sorry to disappoint you. Reid though sardonically.

"_Nice shot." _Don't patronize me.

"_I was aiming for his leg." _Mock me or whatever. I know I'm a bad shot. Sorry to waste your time!

"_I wouldn't have kept kicking, but I was afraid that you didn't get my plans."_ Your plans to fulfill your wish of beating me to death?

"_I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire." _Yeah, _that's_ when I got your plans!

"_Well, I hope I didn't hurt you too badly."_

Reid somehow knew that he only meant physically, not mentally or emotionally. He didn't care if he had hurt Reid with his words; they were true after all. _Maybe he thought they would get me to shut up? To make me stop making his life so miserable. _

By this point Elle had gone to get Hotch and Gideon while Morgan was steadily getting more worried for his best friend and JJ was debating whether to talk to him or wait for their superiors. Her mind was quickly made up for her as a thick red substance trailed its way down Reid's bare arm to pool at the crook of his elbow where his shirt sleeves were pulled up to, soaking the blue material a purple color.

"Spence!" JJ cried, prying his fingers out of the tightly clenched fist, revealing deep, half moons on his palms and bloody fingernails. Morgan winced as he saw the wounds and Spencer roughly pulled away his arm.

"Don't touch me!" He nearly growled as he stood up swiftly. At this moment Elle returned with Hotch and Gideon.

"Reid!" Hotch yelled in a scolding tone.

"_What?_" Reid shouted back in an irritated manner.

"First of all, do _not_ take that tone of voice with me. Second of all, you do _not_ _ever_ treat a woman in that manner. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, _Dad._" Spencer spat out.

Hotchner flinched. He knew how Reid regarded his father: he basically hated him. Hotch didn't want to be compared to someone with such a negative impact in his youngest agents life.

"Hey! What's the matter with you?" Bellowed Morgan at his best friend.

"The matter with me? The matter with _me_? Why would anything be wrong besides the fact that you all hate me?" Was Reid's loud answer. By this point the BAU team was happy that the bullpen was relatively empty today; glad that no other F.B.I. agents were around to witness Dr. Reid's breakdown.

"Hate you? Kid, none of us here hate you! How could we? We love you, man!" Was Morgan's incredulous answer.

"Bull_shit_!" Was his reply.

"Spence, what would make you think that?" JJ asked in a broken whisper.

"As if you don't know, Jareau!" Reid ground out. "I can't _take_ this anymore! I can't take the pretending and the lying and the talking behind my back! I can't take the fact that you all resent me and don't want me on this team! I can't live with the fact that you're dying wish would be to beat me! I just can't take this!" And with that, the young genius ran out of the bullpen, bypassing the elevator and sprinting down the staircase.

JJ had tears running down her face and Morgan had seemed to settle into shock. Greenaway couldn't get her head around the fact that _Spencer Reid_ had just had a breakdown. Hotch didn't know what to feel and Gideon knew exactly what was going on, as he always did with the young doctor.

"Why would he think something like that?" JJ whimpered.

"I think that last case did him in." Gideon replied, speaking for the first time since arriving in the bullpen.

"Why do you mean?" Aaron asked.

"You tell me, Hotch." Jason replied. "Whose last wish was it to beat him? Whose life has he been making miserable for the past three years? Who does he complain to every time he fails his qualifications?"

Aaron felt decidedly awful. He had been the one to cause his youngest team members breakdown.

"Don't beat yourself up, Aaron. Remember how he was treated when he was younger, remember how he's treated on cases and remember how he was treated when he first joined the BAU." Gideon said to ease Hotch's guilt, increasing Morgan's tenfold. Morgan knew he had been bad to the kid when he first joined the team and he knew that the genius hadn't deserved that.

"Damn it." Derek muttered, standing up and running to the elevator that had just chimed, pressing the ground floor button repeatedly, while picking up his cell phone and speed dialing his best friend.

Meanwhile Reid was walking the streets of Quantico, thinking about what he should do next. Maybe if he stopped being so smart, people would like him. He knew that it was logically impossible for him not to be a genius, so he'd settle for shutting his trap and not speaking out of turn with his stupid little facts that no one in their right mind would ever give a damn about. He needed to stop 'lording his smarts over other people' as he had been told many times by different people at various times of his life. 'Stop being so remarkable,' they would say, 'it annoys the hell out of people!'.

"Maybe if I were dead I wouldn't be so 'remarkable'." Spencer muttered. His thoughts circling around the fact that Gideon was right: you don't need a gun to kill someone; in fact you just needed the right words and they were dead. Spencer felt as if the words that Hotch had said to him were killing him.

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><p><strong>Soo, I was just watching L.D.S.K. and got inspiration for this little peice. If you guys want me to make this a two shot and have a little bit of the 'HurtComfort' stuff that the category specfies it as, then review or message or something and tell me to write the second part! ( : Ohh and the second part (if I write it) might be a little bit slashy if you squint! Or maybe obviously if I feel like it...! :P**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Remarkable  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>L.D.S.K. 01x06  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mild coarse language, slight OOCness and minor suicidal thoughts.  
><strong>Words Count: <strong>3,609  
><strong>Summary: <strong>What if during L.D.S.K. Reid had taken to heart all of the things that Hotch had said about him?  
><strong>Author Notes: <strong>Sorry about the lateness! School, work, life, blah blah blah. I also couldn't think of how to kill Spencer... Finally figured it out! By the way guys, not slash but can be seen as pre-slash if you wish to interpret it that way! [ : Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em><strong>"<strong>**Don't live down to expectations. Go out there and do something remarkable." – Wendy Wasserstein **_

The wind blew through his hair as the salty sea air licked against his skin. He'd been standing there for about twenty minutes. After thinking on it for a while, Dr. Spencer Reid had made his way home and called the mental institution that his mother resided in just to tell her that he loved her. He, of course, wrote his daily letter to her afterwards but he had to hear her voice. He had written three other letters in his neat script, leaving them on his desk with the names of whom they were addressed to on the plain white envelopes. He had left his apartment after that, silently scanning each book that he owned as he walked out, recalling the information from each as he read the cover.

His holstered gun bounced against his hip and he shoved his pale hands into his pockets. His mind revolved around everything that had brought him to this moment. His mother's mental state, his father leaving, the bullies in elementary through high school, getting tied to the goal posts by the football team, college, F.B.I. training, joining the BAU, getting taunted by Morgan and other members of the team—barring a few of course—, all the things Reid knows were said behind his back since joining the F.B.I., Hotchner's words on their latest case and everything in between. Spencer felt the familiar constricting of his throat and the burning of his eyes that he only allowed to happen in his room at night.

Twenty-four year old Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid of the F.B.I.'s BAU division stepped took a step forward. His eyes set straight forward, looking out in open air as his shoe enclosed toes curled over the edge. Some rock crumbled under foot, but not enough to make him stumble. A piece of hair blew into his eyes but he made no move to change this. Everything from over the years just repeated again and again as he teetered on the edge of the cliff.

Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan was distraught. After making a hasty exit out of the building after his best friend and running throughout the streets for about half an hour, Morgan decided that his efforts were futile and returned to his team, intent on finding his Pretty Boy.

Running back into the bullpen, Morgan was met by a flurry of activity; his whole team was running back and forth between desks and offices in a somewhat panicked state.

"JJ, where else would he go?" Hotch asked.

"Garcia, check his credit card usages!" Elle commanded.

"Check security footage from the local library, Garcia!" JJ said in response to Aaron's question.

"Penelope, try the subway footage!" Hotchner added to Garcia's growing list.

"I can't do everything at once, guys!" Came Garcia's concerned reply.

Gideon hadn't said anything, he was casually sitting in the chair at Reid's desk, watching the alarmed team run around like headless chickens.

"Morgan! Did you catch him?" JJ called across to the dark skinned man.

"Nah, he was gone. I looked down at the subways, through all the connecting streets, but he was gone." The man replied.

An hour of panicked searching and brain storming went by before Jason finally spoke up.

"Have you thought about his apartment?" His voice was quiet, but carried across the bullpen.

All movement stopped as the team shared glances.

"_SHIT!_" Morgan cursed.

"How did we not think of that?" JJ groaned as Elle moaned and dropped her head on the desk roughly, a loud _thunk!_ echoing through the room.

"It would have been the first place we would have looked if this were a victim." Hotch agreed.

"But it's not. This is personal and when things get personal and panic gets involved, simple things get forgotten or overlooked. It seemed way too obvious that someone as smart as Spencer would return to his apartment, but it is probably where he went." Gideon reasoned.

The silence that followed was awkward and tense as everyone had automatically waited for the input of statistics that Dr. Reid would have undoubtedly supplied.

"Well, what the hell are we waiting for?" Morgan kicked everyone into gear. After Derek's statement SUV keys were collected along with maps and every other piece of property that the team felt absolutely necessary to bring. Garcia, of course, stayed in her lair while Morgan and Hotch got into one SUV and JJ, Elle and Gideon piled into the other one. They sped out of the parking garage and onto the streets, lights and sirens blaring, their speed daring anyone to not get out of their way.

Parking haphazardly outside of Reid apartment building, the incomplete team waited—albeit impatiently—for someone to buzz them through the front doors before they stormed up the stair well and straight to the young doctors' door, Hotchner banging loudly on it.

"Reid! Reid, open the door!" Called Aaron.

"Spence, please open the door!" JJ tried.

After standing outside the door for nearly five minutes, Morgan got too impatient to wait.

"Ya know what? Screw this!" He muttered. Everyone moved out of the way as Morgan expertly swung his foot at the door, the piece of wood moving on its hinges until it hit the wall inside. No one had heard the lock break and they hesitated a moment.

"Did anyone try to door handle first?" Elle asked.

"Why would he leave his door unlocked if he wasn't here?" JJ said to fill the silence.

"Unless he didn't plan on coming back." Gideon said in a level tone of voice; always the voice of reason.

"_Shit._" Morgan stated, voicing all of their thoughts before the black man ran into the apartment.

The team did as they normally did on a raid, checking all of the rooms and yelling clear as each one turned up empty. They finally deducted that he was not, in fact, in his apartment and once again did what they did on a normal raid: they looked for clues that could lead them to where their wanted person was. Morgan was the person who found them.

"Guys, over here." He said, looking down at the white envelopes. The team came over to where he was standing at Reid's desk and looked at the four envelopes.

_Mom_. The first said. _Aaron Hotchner and Derek Morgan_. Was scripted on the second. _Jennifer Jareau_. The third read. _Jason Gideon_. Was the final envelope. The team all looked at each other: '_Were these suicide notes?_' was the collective thought.

Hotch and Morgan looked at each other and sighed, Hotch taking the letter and sitting down with Morgan beside him. He opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, holding it at an equal distance between them so they could both read it.

_Dear Hotch and Morgan,_

_I don't really know what to say. That is to say, I've never actually had someone to say goodbye to. When I left the building, I was angry and upset and I can now freely admit that I have been depressed since our last case in Des Plaines and I didn't know how to deal with it. I think I have been… upset since I started school but never outright depressed; I mean, what with the psyche tests to get into the F.B.I. it's highly improbable for me to have passed if I were depressed. Sorry, didn't mean to get off track there. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I understand. I understand all of things that both of you have said to and about me over the years. _

_Morgan, yes, I talk too much about things that nobody cares about. You were right in telling me to stop talking when I first joined the team: I was giving useless facts that nobody wanted to know while we had a cop killer on our hands. I should have taken that advice into account even after that case was over and I'm sorry that I didn't. I knew that the random spiels of utter nonsense that I spoke annoyed you and I should have stopped. _

_Hotch, I'm sorry for complaining too much and for always making you tutor me for my firearm qualifications. I'm sorry for making your life miserable for the past three years and I can aptly say that I don't think I could fire a gun wrong anymore. Thank you for teaching me that. _

_Well, I think that's all I have to say. Thanks to you both for the past three years. For taking me into your team without any experience and two years before I should have been allowed to start training to join the F.B.I._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Dr. Spencer Reid_

Hotch blinked back tears after he had read the letter. Was he going to commit suicide by using a gun? Like how he had taught the kid to? The man took a deep, shaky breath the tears burning the back of his eyes.

Morgan was in a similar state of distress. Sure, the kid was sometimes overbearing, bordering on annoying when he went on random speeches of information that hadn't been asked for, but that didn't mean that he didn't find some of the data interesting and even amusing. He didn't want his best friend to be sorry for being himself. He didn't want him to apologize for being a genius; he loved his Pretty Boy the way he was and he didn't want him to change. Morgan wished to go back in time and make sure that he never made the kid feel like he should be sorry for being so amazingly smart. For being so remarkable.

Gideon leaned against a wall ask he slowly and carefully opened the letter addressed to him.

_Dear Gideon,_

_I just want to thank you for being there all of those years. I've come to think of you as a father figure and I'm immeasurably grateful for all of the things you've done for me over the period that you've known me. Not growing up with a father was hard, but when I met you… I just felt like all of those years of being without one were made up for. _

_If I had a choice of going back in time and having my father stay, I wouldn't. I feel like if I did I wouldn't meet you or join the F.B.I. and I don't think I would ever want that. I loved my time in the F.B.I. and I wouldn't change any of the events leading up to this, because things may have gone differently and that means that there is a chance that I wouldn't have had such amazing experiences. _

_Since joining the BAU I have met a lot of amazing and inspiring people in the office, on the field and in our own team. You, though, are at the forefront of this group. Thank you again for sticking by me these years and showing me that I had potential for this job and I'm sorry that I didn't live up to those expectations._

_Yours gratefully,_

_Spencer_

Jason knew that if he tried to speak that his voice would be gruff. He had the sudden urge to call Stephen, just to tell him that he loved him, but they hadn't spoken in years and he had more urgent matters to attend to. Namely, a seemingly suicidal and decidedly _missing_ twenty-four year old agent.

Jennifer Jareau was the last to open her letter. After the reaction she had gotten from the younger man earlier that day, she wasn't too confident that her letter would be nice, especially after seeing the tears in her three male team members' eyes. JJ told herself to suck it up and open the letter.

_JJ,_

_I'm sorry._

_Spence_

And that was it. JJ broke down in tears at the four words on her page. It wasn't necessarily the apology that made her cry, but the fact that he had signed off as _Spence_. After him getting angry at her earlier that day and calling her Jareau instead of JJ, the blonde had thought he had hated her. This, though, was seemingly not the case and JJ prayed that they would find Spencer before it was too late, if only for JJ to tell him that she loves him and that if he ever thought that someone was talking behind his back for him to tell her and she would gladly threaten them with extraordinarily negative political and media attention. JJ was soon knocked out of her thoughts by Derek's loud and anxious voice.

"Garcia, I don't care if you have to go through every single place he has been since the age of three, just _find_ him!" Morgan stressed, snapping his phone shut with a huff. No one reprimanded him on his behaviour to their technical analyst because they all felt the stress and knew how important it was to find Spencer. "Where is he? Where is he?" Morgan muttered under his breath, pacing the floor angrily and harshly running his hands over his bald head.

"Let's start how we always do: with a profile." Hotch said calmly, his dark eyes the only things betraying his fearful emotions.

"He's a twenty-four year old white male." Elle started off with the obvious.

"He's a genius, so his hiding spot wouldn't be something that would be obvious to us." JJ continued.

"He's suffering a depressive episode." Hotch supplied.

"He feels trapped inside his own mind." Said Gideon, staring blankly at the wall behind the couch.

"That's it!" Morgan yelled, running out the door and jumping into one of the SUV's, turning on the lights and sirens and speeding like the hounds of hell themselves were chasing him.

The team looked at the door to Reid's apartment, not understanding what Morgan suddenly thought of. The group of F.B.I. agents paced impatiently around the small apartment, waiting for word from with Derek or Penelope. Hotch's cell phone suddenly blared the default tune and he flipped it open, answering with a curt 'Hotchner.'.

"Hotch, I just traced Reid's cell. He turned it back on to call his mother. Let me tell you, this kid is not easy to tra—" The blonde was about to go on a rant and Hotch cut her off with a sharp 'Garcia.'. "Sorry, boss. He's on the cliffs." Before she could say anything else, Aaron shut his phone and beckoned everyone to the other SUV, speeding out in much the same fashion as Morgan had minutes ago.

Spencer toyed with the gun in his hand, his thoughts drifting to those of his mother and how she would react when she found out that her only child had suffered a mental break and had committed suicide. He found that, while he felt bad, he couldn't bring himself to care too much as he felt like he was finally doing something for himself. Spencer's toes still hung off of the edge of the cliff face and he had yet to decide upon a method. Should he shoot himself? Jump? Shoot on the edge and fall? Jump and then shoot? Although he knew that the final option wasn't entirely plausible, the thought still crossed his mind briefly. Spencer decided upon shooting himself; he wasn't a very dramatic person and jumping off a cliff seemed slightly over dramatic. The genius thought about it for a minute and decided to have some statistical fun; he was going to play Russian Roulette.

The young man shook all of his bullets free from his gun, catching only one and holding it tightly in his hand. He held it up to the sun light and watched the shiny metal gleam. As he was loading the bullet into the chamber, he vaguely registered something scraping along the gravel drive behind him; a car perhaps? Spencer spun the bullet chamber without looking at where the bullet landed and snapped the chamber back into place. He spun the barrel once in his hand before smiling sadly and lifting it to his head, resting the barrel lightly against his temple. His finger tightened on the trigger, _I have a one in six chance of having a bullet in my brain_. He applied pressure to the trigger but was interrupted by a voice. It startled him into taking his finger off of the trigger.

"SPENCER!" Screamed the voice of his… 'best friend'. Spencer just sighed deeply and started to squeeze the trigger again. _One in six_. "_Spencer!_ Stop, please!" Morgan had been in enough situations like these to know to talk him down, instead of grabbing the gun off of him. This choice was also made by the fact that his best friend was standing on the ledge of a very large cliff; tackling him may not be the most intelligent option.

"Why?" The word was whispered.

"What do you mean why?" Morgan asked, his voice a calm façade.

"Why should I be alive if you all hate me?" The question had a slight edge to it.

"Hate you? Pretty Boy, you've got it all wrong!"

Spencer interrupted the black man, "You all must be so happy; the genius _finally_ got something wrong!" He spat the scathing remark.

"Spencer, my man! Why would you think something like that?" Morgan was incredulous.

"Because you all hate me! Admit it! You all resent me and wish that I would shut up. I know that I don't input much to the team when we're solving cases and I know how much you all loathed me when I joined the team; just a know-it-all, wet-behind-the-ears kid who cruised through life with everything he could ever need!" The tears gathered in his light brown eyes.

"Yeah, okay, we were pretty mean when you first joined the BAU and sometimes we all want you to just be quiet but we love you, man, and that ain't ever gonna change." Derek pleaded.

"See? You do hate me. If I'm dead, you won't all have to wish that I would just shut up." So he pulled the trigger and was met by a loud and empty click.

"_Reid!_ Don't. Please, don't! Just put the gun down and we will sort this out, man. I promise." Derek's voice cracked and the panic started to show through his calm mask.

"Give me a reason to stay alive." Reid ordered.

"You're the smartest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Pretty Boy, you could cure cancer if you wanted to."

"But I chose to go into the F.B.I. and I'm totally useless at solving anything!" _One in five._ And he pulled the trigger, but he was again met by an empty click.

"Don't do this! Baby, please don't do this!" Morgan gasped, his dark brown eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over.

"Give me another reason."

"Everyone would miss you if you died. I'd be devastated. I wouldn't be able to stand living if you weren't around." Morgan admitted.

"Lies." _One in four._ The trigger was pressed. Empty click. "Another." Neither acknowledged the car they heard pulling up or the hurried footsteps.

"You are the kindest and most caring person that ever stepped into the F.B.I."

"What about Garcia? Or JJ? Or Samuel on level 2? They're all more kind and caring than me." _One in three._ Trigger press. Empty click.

Thick tears rolled down each of their cheeks and muffled cries were heard behind them.

"There's half a chance that this shot is going to send a bullet through my brain, Morgan." A gasp was heard from behind them as well as a choked sob. "Give me one last reason."

"Your mother and father will be devastated when they find out that their brilliant child ended his life." Derek cried.

"You don't know my parents! You don't know my life!" Spencer screamed. "I don't _have_ a Dad! He left when I was eight! My mother won't even know that I'm dead for the most part! If she doesn't know she can't care!" Spencer sobbed and choked as he spat the words. "Not good enough, Morgan." _One in two_. Reid pressed the trigger and a loud bang rang out across the cliffs. JJ screamed and fell to the ground, Elle joining her a second later, both their eyes squeezed shut. Tears ran down all of the men's faces as they gasped for air; Morgan was almost hyperventilating.

Derek suddenly let out a loud yell, his hand burning. He pulled his hand away from the burning barrel of the gun and pulled a very much alive Spencer Reid from the cliff edge. Morgan had, at the last second, ran forward and tugged the gun away from Spencer's head, pointing it over the abysmal edge of the rocks.

"Please, Derek! I can't do it!" Sobbed Reid, burying his head into Morgan's shoulder as he cried. "I can't live anymore, Derek. I don't know how to!" Derek bundled the man into a hug and he too sobbed into his best friends shoulder.

"Don't worry, Pretty Boy; we're going to get you help. And we're going to be here for you every step of the way."

The team choked in relief when they say their youngest member alive and they all ran forward, grabbing the two men into a large and suffocating hug. They knew it would not be easy, but they would pull through, with their whole team intact.

"_**Sometimes the littlest things in life are the hardest to take. You can sit on a mountain more comfortably than on a tack." - Author Unknown**_

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><p><strong>Haha! Tricked ya didn't I! Spence didn't die (thank God!) and happy(ish), fluffy(ish) ending for all! Did you think the two-shot was good? ( :<strong>


End file.
